Charlotte in Vegas


Well I have been letting this one stew a few weeks, since we got back from Vegas. I wasn’t sure how to write it. Particularly since it has been a while since I’ve written anything other than a few short blog entries here and there. But I need to get back to it.

Those of you who know me, know that I change the names, and any dialog I write is as close as I can remember it, but I make no claims that it’s dead in. But the stories are true.

So we went to Las Vegas. Paul has a client who works in the Broadcast industry and it seems they have a convention out there every year. He was working most days with engineers and I was a lazybones, sleeping in each day, having long lunches with a book. (I almost never get to read much these days.), and late in the afternoon going by the pool.

In a way, it was kind of discouraging though. Vegas is full of young women with these perfect bodies and I was beginning to feel old and fat. I know, at 42 I am not really old, but honestly, I could not hold a candle to those girls on the best day of my life.

Evenings were sort of discouraging too. Paul dressed me up and I won’t lie and say I didn’t get more than a few looks with my corseted cleavage and high heels, but still I found myself surrounded by all these young gals, and I was sort of down about it.

Each night, after supper, Paul had to attend some receptions with his client. “Mostly engineers” he told me. I was not looking forward to it. Paul had packed me a lot of pretty sexy things to wear at night, and I had this image of a bunch of old fat engineering geeks Escort slobbering over me. Not a turn on.

But I had promised him I would go, and as it turned out, most of them were really young, just out of college or so, and full of fun. I didn’t mind THEIR admiration, and they were full of it.

The first night got pretty flirty, and the second night was more so. The third and last night, there was something in the air, but I had no idea what. Those guys were practically falling over themselves to me. After dinner, We went down to their lounge at the MGM, and danced and drank champagne (I adore champagne, and it seems to losen every bit of reserve I have.) and danced some more.

Do you want to know what I was wearing that third night? Of course you do. You guys are all wired visually. It’s a kind of 1940’s dress thing Paul bought me. Black pencil skirt, kinda tight and just below the knee with a fairly decent slit in the back. You know the way those 1940s suit skirts hug your hips? This one does that.

The top is a white with black polka dot thing, with black buttons. It’s true to the 40’s too, with a tight tailored waist and shoulder pads. It looks good buttoned up to the neck, or you can unbutton it a fair amount and it still hangs pretty nicely (and shows as much as you want to show.). I can wear it to church or a bar, with entirely different effect.

I wore my black corset under it, and Paul chose how far to unbutton it, probably one button lower than I would have, just enough to show a bit of the black lace of the corset’s bodice. and my cleavage, pretty clearly. Black stockings of course. Heels. Not those things they call CFM heels, but a nice set of 2 1/2″ black pumps. I looked good.

And I felt good. All these young guys oogling me so obviously, dancing with me (and a few showed their obvious admiration about midships when we danced.). By the time we were ready to leave, I was pretty anxious to get Paul alone. I had some serious hormones to get out of my system and I wasn’t worrying about those young gals any more. When we got to the room, I was out of my dress in a flash, and Mr 26 went and got the little black bag.

The little black bag is a small duffle bag we take on all our trips. It’s got our collection of toys, ties and the like that can make sex extra interesting. I could hardly wait to see what he was going to pull out of there.

It was a blind fold and ties. Not what I was expecting (I was expecting a dildo or few). He sat me down in a chair, put on the blindfold, and strapped my legs to the chair legs. “Pick a number between one and sixteen.” he said. I said “six”. I heard him go the phone, punch the buttons and all he said was “six.”.

A few minutes later there was a knock on the door. He opened it and I heard people come come in. I could hear or sense the first one stepp in front of me and heard his pants unzip. I reached out. (I know, why tie a woman up if her hands are free. I could have untied myself, but it was all a game, and I was so totally ready to play along.).

It was NOT Paul’s cock. But since it was right in front of me, and right at lip level. I knew just what was expected. What Paul wanted. And I always do what Paul wants.

In the end, I sucked off six guys. Never saw a one of them, but I got to fondle them, suck them, deep throat some of them and most of them came in my mouth. Some of them fondled my breasts, now out of the corset top, and some just stood there and took it.

I can’t tell you how long it went on, because a few of them made it up twice and I sucked them for a second round. One guy, whose cock was short but unimaginably thick, made it three times. It went on and on, cum mixing with cum, all those tastes mingling, my lips feeling almost numb from cock after cock pumping my mouth.

When it was over, Paul let the last one out, shut the door, untied me, took off the blindfold and I practically jumped on top of him. We had some serious good old fashioned sex until we were both about to drop. I was so hot I came nearly the moment he penetrated me but I could not stop then. I came one more time before Paul finally gave it up for me, his cum hot inside me.

I never knew which guys I had. Paul had set this up the day before. The guys were so turned on by me the first night, he just thought it would be a blast (and it was!).

I went to breakfast the last morning and most of the guys were there. Everyone was smiling and I had NO idea who I had been with that night. I wish I had picked a higher number. I think I would have gladly done that all night long, but it’s still one of the most exciting moments of my life even if they didn’t penetrate me.

Maybe that will happen next year. Paul’s already invited me to go back with him. Just the thought gets me going!


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